


The Book Of Love

by GingerTodgers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eleanor & Park, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Rainbow Rowell Books, Reading, Very mild hint of Harry/Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerTodgers/pseuds/GingerTodgers
Summary: Hermione reads to Ron





	

**Author's Note:**

> "The book of love is long and boring  
> No one can lift the damn thing  
> It's full of charts and facts and figures  
> and instructions for dancing  
> but I, I love it when you read to me  
> and you, you can read me anything"
> 
> Inspired by Magnetic Fields - The Book of Love

The fire was dying down. Hermione had taken the last watch of the night and tendrils of grey smoke swam through her curls, combining with the early morning light to create a fuzzy halo. She turned a page and leaned further back against the trunk of the Sweet Chestnut tree. The roots cradled her hips, lifting up to support her reading elbow, the one that did most of the page turning. The boys would laugh if she told them about her reading elbow, her hexing wrist, or any of the other parts of her body that stepped forward to take on important tasks. Her right eyebrow was for Ron, she decided as he stumbled through the flaps of the tent, blinking at the pale sunlight.

He was wearing last year's Weasley Christmas jumper, tugging the cuffs down over skinny wrists that had shot out beyond the reaches of his mum's knitting needles. Hermione had offered to charm the sleeves longer for him but Ron was still holding out hope that this Christmas, just like every other, there would be a new jumper under the Christmas tree. That he would be there to unwrap it, safe in the Burrow while Voldemort knocked off the plotting for a few days of good will to all men.

The roots of Hermione's tree rose up to meet Ron as he tramped over, twisting around his ankles and holding him a few feet away from her. Not too tight, the tree knew that this tall pale boy meant no real harm to the small girl it had spent the night sheltering. He only wanted to sit with her, to hear the rustle of the pages turn, close his eyes and imagine that they were back home, waiting to be called in for a mince pie and a game of Exploding Snap. It wasn't much to ask but the tree sensed a ripple of discomfort, lurking behind Hermione's dark eyes. She wasn't sure if she wanted him here, not right now, not without Harry and plans and laughter. And so the roots held onto Ron.

"Umm" his brow creased, glaring down at the roots and then up at Hermione.

"Good Morning" she made no move to help him, using a finger to mark her place in the book.

"Morning" he wiggled a foot experimentally, accidentally kicking a root which recoiled and then attacked, wrapping tighter around his left trainer. "This tree your new boyfriend?" he asked, "bit possessive, if you ask me."

"Looks more like it wants to be your boyfriend" she replied, allowing a smile to creep across her face.

"Oh yeah, must have missed that bit." He returned her grin and felt the roots loosen. "Thought it was being all romantic over you, turns out it's actually kinky for me."

"Very kinky" she agreed, giving the tree a reassuring pat. "Bondage" she nodded to the last root, still playing with his laces, "a captive audience" she gestured to herself, the clearing, the rather tatty looking tent where Harry still slept. "This tree's got big plans, are you sure you want to risk coming over here?"

"Umm'hmm" he landed beside her, his hip glancing painfully off hers. "Reckon you'll protect me."

"Maybe" she shifted away from him, watching as the tree roots moved to cradled them both, side-by-side. She'd lost her reading elbow support, although Ron's boney knee would probably do just as well. Testing this theory she balanced her left elbow on his right knee. Was this ok? She didn't really want to look at him right now, what if he was looking at her in horror? What if he wasn't? "Not much I can do if the tree decides to woo you, though. Wouldn't want to get in the way of true love."

"Well that's true" his voice rumbled through his chest, through her thin coat and down the left side of her body. "Jealousy s'not a good look." Oh. Now she really wanted to look at him. It sounded like he was smiling, like those laughter creases were appearing around his eyes and he was about to start playing with one of her curls. Twisting it around his fingers like that was normal and fine and exactly the kind of thing he'd be doing with Harry or Dean or any of the other boys if they just had the decency to grow their hair out. "What are you reading?"

"Eleanor and Park" she held the book towards him, a bright yellow cover. A boy and a girl, linked by headphones, with their backs to the reader.

"Looks like Harry and Ginny".

"Mmm" she agreed. "Black hair and ginger curls. Could be his parents, though."

"Do you think that's why they split up?" He shifted beside her. She shifted back.

"Maybe." She really had no idea why Harry and Ginny had split up. She probably could have asked, could have boxed Harry into a corner and wrung some stuttering confession from him. Maybe she would have, in another life. Before he started giving her and Ron meaningful looks, going to bed early, leaving them on their own to stare into the campfire.

"What's it about?" Ron shifted again, she wondered if she should take her elbow back.

"Love" is what she should have said. But this elbow thing was making it too awkward. Why had she done this? What kind of person draped themselves across another person and started lisping about love? Not that Hermione lisped, her pronunciation was spot on. Still. "Love". Just... no. "It's about a boy and a girl" she said instead, frowning down at the book. "He's popular at school. Well, he's not popular but he's accepted, he's got lots of people to talk to. And he's got a nice family, they all" she swallowed, "they all love him. Support him. And she is alone. She has a family but they're not very supportive. Or nice. And she's not really got anyone to talk to, except him. Really."

"Oh" he shifted again. She lowered her elbow, settling the book back into her lap. "Your parents are coming back. You know?"

"Yes" she turned the book over, studying the publisher's blurb. "It's a very good book." He shifted again, wiggled. She sighed. "Let me just budge up, give you some more room and..."

"No" he interrupted her. "It's fine, just give me a minute." Pulling out his wand he stood and transformed the pile of brown leaves at the foot of the tree. She found herself sitting on the corner of a big velvet cushion. The tree seemed to bristle. "What?" He glared at her.

"Nothing!" she patted the tree, again. "I'm impressed. That's a tricky spell, especially performed on something that doesn't want to be transformed." His eyes shot upwards, a look of unease crossing his face.

"Do you think it's pissed off? I'll change you back!" He called up towards the branches, executing an awkward half-bow, half-bob.

"Shhh!" She laughed, reaching up to pull him back down. He landed in the middle of the cushion, his right side no longer pressed against her left. Her laugh died away and she squatted at the edge of the cushion. It really was only big enough for one.

"Hang on" he shifted again, settled back against the trunk, reached forward to grab her arm. "Come on".

"What are you doing?" She held herself stiff.

"Come on!" He huffed, pulling her closer, she was now half on the cushion, holding herself up to avoid touching him. "Just... hold on..." he settled further back and pulled her towards him, opening his long legs so that she sat between them, her back pressed against the large golden R in the middle of his jumper. It was the least comfortable she'd ever been. His woolly maroon arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Read to me?" His breath tickled her ear, hung hot and damp in her curls. As if the morning mist wasn't enough, she now had humidity to deal with. Not for the first time she contemplated chopped the whole lot off.

"Do you think I should cut my hair?" She felt him tense behind her and, weirdly, that was what she needed to relax back against him. To tuck her knees up, balancing the book against them, and turn to the first page.

"Definitely" his voice was low. "You should do that immediately. Today. Now. Right after you finished reading to me."

"Not completely" she clarified, "there would still be some curls."

"Sounds great, now come on" his knees joggled her "get to reading."

***

Two hours later, Harry is brushing his teeth at the tent's small sink. He listens to the laughing voices outside, both sounding the happiest they'd been since arriving in the Forest of Dean. He hears Ron ask who The Smiths are. Hears Hermione laugh in response, misses a few murmured words and then hears her voice ring out. Cheerful and offkey

"Oh there is a light and it never goes out, there is a light and it never goes out, there is a light and it never goes out..."

He hums along as he sits down at the kitchen table, pulling an unfinished letter towards him.

"Dear Draco," it says "I can't tell you how much..."

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. E&P was not published while the Golden Trio were camping but I want Hermione to have been able to read it and so, in this tiny tiny story, it was.


End file.
